


Tabloid

by Adenil



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Embarassment, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adenil/pseuds/Adenil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Purchasing a tabloid at a gas station has unintended consequences for our heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tabloid

STARK IN BED WITH HULK?

 

Bruce paused, just staring. He felt the condensation from the can of tea he was holding collecting on his skin. Absently, he shifted his grip so as not to drop the can. He traced his eyes over the magazine, taking in the picture on the front. It was a candid shot after some battle or other, after he had gone back to Just Bruce and was clutching at the remnants of his pants as Tony stood by, his visor flipped up, and one hand on his shoulder. Tony was smiling. Hugely smiling, and his mouth was partly open as he said something to Bruce.

 

He took in the look on his own face, slightly pixelated. Yes, he decided. That was what he thought it was. Adoration, with a hint of unadulterated relief. Just a normal day of looking at Tony like he held the world in his hands.

 

He read the byline. _Secret tryst?—Stark Industries in for a Huge change._

 

“Hey did you get what you wanted? Because I seriously need to get out of this Podunk—what’re you looking at?”

 

Bruce startled into action and for a split second he tried to position himself between Tony and the magazine on the shelf. It only piqued Tony’s interest, however, and Tony pushed past him and let out a startled sound as he caught sight of the magazine. He watched in horrifying slow motion as Tony reached out and picked the magazine up, shoving the three bottled coffees he was carrying under one arm and turning the pages over in his hands. He saw Tony’s shoulders shaking, and he winced.

 

“Tony,” Bruce said desperately. “That’s… It’s just a magazine.”

 

It took him a moment, but he realized Tony was laughing.

 

“Oh my god,” Tony said, laughter crystal clear in his voice. He turned around and his eyes sparkled at Bruce. “Oh my god, _look_ at this.” He tapped another headliner with his finger, and Bruce read it.

 

_Make your boyfriend Hulk Huge!_

 

He blanched, but Tony was still laughing.

 

“We’re getting this. We are so getting this. You got what you wanted? I’m buying.”

 

He watched Tony place his coffees and magazine on the counter. He moved like a robot to place his own, small can of tea alongside. He nearly died of embarrassment as the till operator glanced between the mirthful Tony and the awkward Bruce, then at the magazine. The girl seemed about to say something, but decided against it. She rang them up and accepted Tony’s card without question.

 

He tried to hide his shame as he cradled his tea and started to crawl back into the passenger’s seat of their far-too-expensive rental car. He felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder.

 

“Oh no, Doctor Banner, it was your idea to drive out here, so you have to drive at least part of the way.” His words were forceful, but his tone happy and light. Bruce smiled at him nervously. “Next time we’ll ask them to move the conference to New York, and I’ll pay for the whole thing so they can’t complain.”

 

“That might be a little much,” he said, but he still hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. They only had an hour to go, anyway.

 

“When have you ever known me to do things in half measures?” Tony asked as he settled into the seat beside him.

 

Bruce glanced over at him as they pulled out of the gas station. Tony had his sunglasses on, which was normally a bad sign, but the little smile he wore calmed Bruce. Tony had already downed one of his coffees and was sipping on the second as they drove onto the highway.

 

Bruce concentrated on the road for a little while before he was rudely interrupted by a snickering Stark.

 

“You aren’t seriously reading that trash, are you?” he asked disdainfully. A quick glanced to his right told him that Tony was, in fact, reading the tabloid.

 

“Bruce, Bruce listen to this.” Tony tried to keep the laughter from his voice. He quoted from the article, “’Esteemed sexologist Clarice Lefebvre claims the pairing has no fear of injury. _The human body is quite adaptable_ , says Lefebvre. _And is capable of stretching several inches without tearing, provided proper lubrication is maintained_.’”

 

Bruce felt his face growing hot. “They… they wrote that?” he managed. His words felt thick on his tongue.

 

“Yeah,” Tony knocked back another shot of coffee. “That goes on for several paragraphs. They seem really concerned with my ass.” He laughed again, and Bruce nearly swerved into the ditch at the thought. “They have all the details worked out, which is just _wonderful_. Oh, wait, here’s eyewitness testimony.”

 

“’ _I don’t know_ , says eyewitness Teddy Tennerman. _I guess you had to be there. But when you see that big brute looking into the eyes of his lover, you just know. And the Hulk seems down for it, too_.’” Tony scoffed. “Hey, I am not a brute.”

 

“You are kind of a brute,” Bruce said, because of he said anything else he might scream.

 

It went on like that for quite a while, as Tony quoted from a tabloid that seemed to break down every second of interaction they had ever had into its base parts. There didn’t really seem to be anyone who thought they _weren’t_ in a relationship, which was kind of embarrassing and kind of sweet at the same time. They seemed to think Bruce was actually capable of such a thing, which put a nice little warm feeling in his gut right next to the screeching embarrassment he felt at each word out of Tony’s mouth.

 

Then Tony turned the page to the sex tips, and Bruce just about melted through the seat.

 

“Oh, wow,” Tony said, whistling in appreciation. “There sure are a lot of ads for, ahem, _male enhancement_. Look, they even sell green paint.” He shook the magazine at Bruce, and Bruce very pointedly did not turn and look. Tony scoffed at him. “You’re just jealous.”

 

“Of _myself_?” he screeched. And he realized he was speeding, so he slowed down.

 

“Yeah, sure. Of your tabloid-self who gets to get with this.” Tony pointed at himself and nodded smarmily. “I mean, I’m jealous of your tabloid-self. I’d want to tap this if I could.”

 

“Tap yourself,” Bruce said. It came out a scratchy whisper. He was definitely losing his mind. “What. I can’t even imagine.”

 

“I can.” Tony was leaning back in the seat, and Bruce couldn’t tell what he was thinking with his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. “And, holy cow, is it beautiful.”

 

Yeah, Bruce could imagine, too. And it was. In a really, really, really weird way. A way he didn’t want to think about right then when he was driving and couldn’t escape and Tony was _right there_ just a few inches away making him go batty. He caught himself nodding along to the image and stilled his head, fearful that Tony had caught him in the act.

 

But Tony seemed distracted, still, and was humming to himself with his hands folded behind his head.

 

At least the magazine was forgotten.

 

They’d made good time, and when they arrived at the conference hotel they still had a few hours to settle in before the soiree began. Tony kept his sunglasses firmly in place, and Bruce had an average-enough face that they managed to slip in undetected, without paparazzi and cameras.

 

They had a ridiculously huge suite that took nearly an entire floor’s worth of space. There were two bedrooms, but only one bath, and Bruce claimed it first.

 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, already scrubbing his hand through his grimy hair.

 

Tony waggled his fingers at him. “Don’t have too much fun,” he said, and Bruce blushed.

 

There was shower and tub in the bathroom. Bruce took the shower, and relished in the hot water rushing over his skin. He tried to push the tabloid out of his mind as he scrubbed down, erasing the sweat and new-car smell from his body. He scrubbed until he was pink and raw and stepped out of the shower to towel dry.

 

He was dressed, thankfully, but still towel drying his hair as he walked into the room he had claimed with his suitcase, only to see Tony sprawled out on his bed.

 

He froze in the entrance way. His eyes skimmed over Tony, who was lying on his stomach on the bed, his knees bent up and his ankles crossed like a teenage girl having a chat with her gal-pal. And he was still reading that damned magazine.

 

Tony glanced over his shoulder at him, and Bruce was pleased to see the sunglasses were gone. Tony smirked.

 

“Do you think they’re going to try and pair us with all of the other Avengers, or are we just lucky?”

 

Bruce rubbed his foot on the back of his leg nervously. The towel flopped over his ears, getting dampness on his shirt. “I-I don’t know. I don’t know why they’d want to…pair, me with anyone. I’m not exactly attractive.”

 

Tony arched an eyebrow at him like he was crazy. “The hell are you talking about, Banner?”

 

“What?” Bruce shifted from foot to foot again. “I mean, I’m old. I guess it’s just the thought of the H—the other guy. Since he’s so big they figure—” He cut himself off, blushing.

 

Tony let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled over onto his back, the magazine falling to one side of him. “Seriously? Bruce, come here. Sit down.”

 

Bruce obeyed nervously. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and pulled the towel down around his neck. It was damp and uncomfortable. He didn’t look at Tony as he sat; preferring to look at the far wall and try to pretend this was all some strange dream. He would wake up any second now, he was sure.

 

Suddenly he felt Tony’s hands on his arms, pulling him into the center of the bed. “No,” Tony said. “Come _here_.”

 

He didn’t fight it, because who knew what could happen if he fought _anything_. He just let Tony manhandle him into an awkward lying-down hug. His face was pressed into Tony’s neck, and he could feel Tony’s chest rising and falling, hear the hum of his arc reactor. His arms were stiff at his side as Tony hugged him.

 

“Christ on a cracker, Bruce. You are the sexiest man I’ve ever met. And I’ve met myself.”

 

Bruce stiffened in his arms. He started to pull away, but Tony held him close. All he could do was stare blankly at the spot where Tony’s neck met Tony’s shoulder and think, _huh_.

 

Tony held him for a minute until Bruce gradually relaxed in his arms. Then, Tony pulled away and arched his eyebrow again, all sardonic and smarmy and sexy. And it was really ridiculous that a tabloid newspaper could reduce them to this.

 

“Wanna make out?” Tony asked, and Bruce half-laughed half-died of embarrassment again. He nearly sank through the bed into a little puddle of blushing humiliation, but instead he steeled himself. He found himself nodding.

 

“Sure,” he said, and leaned in.

 

Sometime later the maid would find the magazine, tattered and wrinkled and slightly damp from being wrapped in a towel, and thumb through it with a shake of her head. She would toss the magazine in the trash and gather up the bags, wondering what they would think of next.


End file.
